


Burning Leaves

by feralbasilthief



Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:15:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21563578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feralbasilthief/pseuds/feralbasilthief
Summary: Snufkin has always had a pipe with him, but one day it breaks and he needs to make a new one.Just a very short one-shot to put an idea into words. Enjoy!
Relationships: Mumintrollet | Moomintroll & Snusmumriken | Snufkin
Comments: 7
Kudos: 48





	Burning Leaves

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy, my writing is very rusty but I'm giving it the old college try to get back into it.  
> I'm working on some longer ideas but this was a fun to warm up my brain muscles. This isn't super 'shippy' but I couldn't include these two boys in anything without some good ol' pining thrown in there.

Crickets chirped in the fading evening sun as Snufkin wilted with his knife, scraping at the edges of the piece of wood he was carving so meticulously. Moomin fiddled with the grass by his side, taking in the comfortable shared silence. He couldn’t keep it for very long, though, as he was a Moomintroll after all. 

“What’re you carving?” he implored, trying to seem nonchalant by keeping his gaze down at the grass.

Snufkin looked up from his handiwork with a satisfied smile.

“Done carving, actually. My pipe broke so I made a new one.”

Moomin’s eyes filled with wonder. He would never tire of discovering another one of Snufkin’s seemingly endless list of small talents. Moomin scooted over, eyes filled with glee as he held out his hands to take the small artifact. Snufkin placed the carved piece of silver birch in to his own fluffy paws. Moomin looked it over but pulled back with bewilderment when he found that the pipe was not, in fact, finished.

“Well, how are you to get the hole through it?” He gave Snufkin a quizzical look.

“Hole?” Snufkin parroted.

Moomin nodded his head, “Well, how else are you supposed to smoke it?”

The troll giggled but found himself trailing off into a less welcomed silence. Snufkin held a thoughtful but truly strange expression on his face and Moomin hoped he would stop giving him that look. Had he said the wrong thing? His Pappa’s pipes were always the same sort of design so surely Snufkin’s was meant to be like that too. RIght?

His heart skipped when Snufkin suddenly started to laugh, lilting and sweet like honey.

“If there was a hole in it, everything would fall out. Silly Moomin,” he chastised him but not without warmth. Moomin did indeed feel silly and even more confused at that; Snufkin always managed to do that without even really trying. His cheeks heated and he joined in the laughter unsurely. 

Still chuckling, Snufkin asked, “Well, shall I try it out?”

Moomin nodded, eyes wide as if even blinking might mean he’d miss something. Snufkin bent over from his seat on his log to pick up a stray leaf from the ground. He crumpled the browned thing in his paw until it was a little ball. Moomin eyed him curiously. What in the Groke was he doing? The troll watched with bated breath, as Snufkin took the pipe in his teeth and shoved the little ball in the bowl with his thumb. The action made the Mumrik go crossed eye and Moomin thought that was very funny. He never really paid much attention to Snufkin’s smoking habits before but now he wished he had. 

Snufkin gave a half of a smile, the other side of his mouth preoccupied with the pipe. He rummaged into his pack and triumphantly pulled out a match. It lit with one strike and he held up the flame, illuminating his brown eyes. Moomin drank up the sight of them like hot chocolate. The Mumrik brought the flame to the bowl of the pipe and carefully ignited the end. When smoke began to rise up, he pulled the match out and shook it to make sure it was out. 

Snufkin pulled the pipe from his mouth and turned back to Moomin, who started when he realized he had been staring. 

“What do you think?” Snufkin asked. 

Moomintroll didn’t even know what to make of it. The trance that held his tongue as he watched his friend had broken and suddenly he was full of questions.

“Moomintroll?” 

Moomin broke from his thoughts, “It’s just that, uh, you… you are smoking a leaf?” 

He ended it as more of a question than a statement. He felt like he was missing something, but Snufkin just stuck the pipe back in his mouth, chewing at it thoughtfully.

“I guess herbs would be better,” he looked bemused, “or flowers.”

Moomin blinked, “I meant, shouldn’t you be using tobacco? And how will you smoke it without a bore in the mouthpiece?”

It was Snufkin’s turn to feel embarrassed, now feeling so unsure of himself. He had been smoking since before he could remember; what more could there possibly be to such a simple thing? He was glad his voice didn’t waver when he spoke again.

“I wouldn’t know what a bore is but I wouldn’t want to smoke tobacco. It stinks.” 

He crinkled his nose in distaste.

“Well, most pipes have this hole that goes through them from the top thingy to the mouth so you can breathe in the smoke. I think Pappa called the hole a bore…” Moomin trailed off.

Snufkin gave the troll an incredulous look. 

“Breathe in the smoke! Goodness, that sounds terrible! I just enjoy the smell. Why would anyone of sound mind want to breathe smoke?”

It was like a floodgate had opened and Moomin realized with a joyous laugh that Snufkin might not be as wise as he had thought. He chuckled heartily until his sides ached, wheezing and feeling very sorry for his poor friend at the same time.

“You aren’t fooling me, are you?” He scrubbed at his cheeks, trying to ease the ache of holding a much too wide grin. Snufkin shook his head back and forth, quite violently for such a calm demeanored creature. Moomin figured as much for his face was too serious to be joking. 

“I’ve never it any other way,” Snufkin replied quietly, much to his own chagrin and then, “But why?”

Moomin thought about it for a moment, recalling what Moominpappa had told him.

“I think the smoke gives you a funny feeling. I guess some people must enjoy it,” he shrugged.

To be fair, he couldn’t imagine why anyone would be interested in the activity either. Snufkin took this information in, slowly nodding. 

“I guess that makes sense.” 

There was a beat of silence and then Snufkin was laughing. Moomin quickly dissolved into his own fit, barely being able to sputter out a quick, “I prefer your way much better, Snuf.”

Yes, he really did. It was just another thing that made Moomin’s heart grow fonder for the Mumrik. Another thing that was purely Snufkin. 

**Author's Note:**

> I can't be the only one who rolled up leaves, lit them, and smoked them when I was a kid, right?  
> Thanks for reading and let me know what you think!


End file.
